November 3.
St. Malachi, Abp. of Armagh, A. D. 1143. St. Hubert, Bp. of Leige, A. D. 727. St. Wenefride, or Winefride. St. Papoul, or Papulus, 3d. Cent. St. Flour, A. D. 389. St. Rumwald.
Without being sad, we may be serious; and continue to-day the theme of yesterday.
Mr. Bowring, from whose former poetical works several citations have already glistened these pages, in a subsequent collection of effusions, has versified to our purpose. He reminds us that—
Man is not left untold, untaught,
Untrain’d by heav’n to heavenly things;
No! ev’ry fleeting hour has brought
Lessons of wisdom on its wings;
And ev’ry day bids solemn thought
Soar above earth’s imaginings.
In life, in death, a voice is heard,
Speaking in heaven’s own eloquence,
That calls on purposes deferr’d,
On wand’ring thought, on wild’ring sense,
And bids reflection, long interr’d,
Arouse from its indifference.
Another poem is a translation
From the German.
Ach wie nichtig, ach wie flüchtig!
O how cheating, O how fleeting
Is our earthly being!
’Tis a mist in wintry weather,
Gather’d in an hour together,
And as soon dispers’d in ether.
O how cheating, O how fleeting
Are our days departing!
Like a deep and headlong river
Flowing onward, flowing ever—
Tarrying not and stopping never.